The willow strands were draped in gold <br />Whilst hanging from those wilted boughs, <br />And softly kissed the water <br />Of the lake that hid my tears, <br />As winds did blow they gently fell <br />Like poisoned arrows through the air, <br />Unto those cold and murky depths <br />Where sorrow met with fears. <br /> <br />I watched the silent ripples pass <br />That drew unto the sleeping shore, <br />But they could go no further <br />As they sank within the mire, <br />Where leaves had gathered one by one <br />And dressed the contours of the bank, <br />Whilst still the branches flickered <br />Like the fading flames of fire. <br /> <br />As willow strands were draped in gold <br />Their hushed reflections calmly lay, <br />That shone within the sunlight <br />That did warm the waking morn, <br />And there I saw myself within <br />The shadows of the autumn's death, <br />I felt the cold wind blow again <br />That stirred the solemn dawn. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />2011<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/willow-strands/
